Know Thine Enemy
by K. Ashley
Summary: Draco is forced to participate in a Muggle exchange program. Surf's up and hatred abounds as Draco faces an entire semester among the Muggles he loathes so much...


Irony is a funny trick that fate loves to play. Cruel though it may sometimes be, irony can lead to the most wonderful things in life… _If _the subject of fate's folly decides to play along.

~ o ~

"What?!" Draco stood up so fast that he dropped his fork to the lavishly carpeted floor. His eyes were wide in disbelief, and all he could do was shake his head.

"Draco, sit down," Lucius answered in a tone of lazy exasperation. "It is not the end of the world, you know. Besides, it is your duty as a student and I will not see you fall behind in your grades because of a little stubbornness."

Draco allowed himself to sink back down onto the plush chair as a frantic house elf brought him a clean fork. "But father, _think_ about what they're asking of me! To study Muggles is horrid enough, but to send me to _live_ amongst them for an entire semester is just… just…"

"Just another test that you will not fail to ace," Lucius said evenly. This time it was he who stood up. "I am a governor of Hogwarts, and as such I cannot allow you to disregard your education, no matter how ridiculous it may seem. I know you don't want to live like a Muggle - hell, _I_ didn't want to do it when I was your age! But it is part of every decent wizard's curriculum, and it is a trial that must be dealt with."

"But we _hate_ Muggles!" Draco argued. "How can you agree to this assignment when you are the one who has taught me my whole life that Muggles are vermin and our greatest enemies?"

"Draco, listen to me," Lucius was beginning to sound impatient, "Muggles are our enemies. They are vermin. Haven't you ever heard the old cliché: _Know thine enemy_? In just a few short months, you will be welcomed into the service of Lord Voldemort, and just think how valuable you shall be to him when you know everything there is to know about Muggles. When you are able to move among them undetected, to gain their trust, to infiltrate their world! You will be indispensable to Lord Voldemort's plans! You will go to America. You will learn to befriend your enemies. And you will come back better skilled to serve the Dark Lord. Do I make myself quite clear?"

"Yes." Draco's cold gray eyes bored into Lucius' even colder ones. Lucius left the dining room in a flurry of elegant robes, and Narcissa scurried after him, shooting Draco a withering look on her way out. Draco slouched back in his chair and shoved his plate away. The house elf hurried to remove the unwanted food, and Draco reflexively stuck out his foot to trip the poor creature, sending it flying onto its face, and the plate of food scattering across the floor.

"Don't worry about it, sir," the elf stammered, frantically cleaning up the mess, "I will gets it, sir."

~ o ~

Draco shoved the last bit of clothing into his large mahogany trunk and struggled to get the lid to close. When it had clicked into place, he locked it with a tap of his wand, then sat down wearily atop it. He looked around his lavish bedroom and frowned. It looked rather bare without his usual belongings lying about: the various combs and colognes that usually lined the bureau, the expensive clothing that should have filled the wardrobe, and the books and broom servicing equipment that made their homes on the bookcase had all been packed away to accompany Draco on his journey to America.

His stormy heart raged more than usual as he thought of spending the next semester living with Muggles. It was a standard assignment for all seventh-year students who took Advanced Muggle Studies, and most of his classmates were looking forward to the exchange with eager excitement. Draco recalled how Ron Weasley's face had glowed when Professor Winthrop had announced the assignment before Christmas. Ron's excitement hadn't surprised Draco in the slightest. "Of course _he_ wants to live with Muggles," he had told Crabbe and Goyle bitterly. "After all, his weirdo father simply adores them. And I'm sure Weasel will enjoy living in a _real_ house, rather than the shack he calls home."

A sharp knock on the door yanked Draco from his bitter musings. The door opened without Draco's permission, and Lucius stepped into the room. "All ready, son?" he asked impatiently, his steely eyes darting around the room to make sure Draco had packed.

"Ready to settle in among scum for five months? Oh, sure."

"Don't give me your cheek, Draco," Lucius warned. "I've hired a driver to take you to the - erm - _airport_, I believe they call it. You've plenty of money in your case, I presume, so let's get to it, I've a lot to do today." With that, Lucius spun on his heel and strode out of the room. 

Draco stood up and waved his wand angrily at his trunk. _"Tropendo,"_ he said, and the trunk vanished, to reappear in the car outside. When Draco reached the front hall of Malfoy Manor, he was accosted by a flurry of hugs and kisses from Narcissa.

"Mother, really! You're embarrassing me!" he grumbled, grudgingly kissing her back on the cheek. Lucius grasped Draco's arm and pulled him away from his mother.

"Now, Narcissa, the boy has to go, or he'll be late!" Lucius scolded. "I don't have time to deal with this. Draco, behave yourself in America, and remember what I told you. You don't have to be _nice_ to the Muggles, just be watchful."

With that, Lucius shoved Draco toward the car, and the back door popped magically open to admit its passenger. The driver was a short, stout and surly little wizard in black, pinstriped robes. He did not speak to Draco, but sped the car out of Malfoy Manor and began the long drive to the airport, hopping magically in and out of traffic.

Before Draco knew it, he was standing in a busy terminal, his hand shoved into his robes, where he nervously fidgeted with his wand. Muggles swarmed around him, bumping rudely into him with their heavy luggage and hurrying on their way without apology. A muffled voice sounded over a loudspeaker, announcing that Draco's flight was nearly ready to depart. 

Not exactly sure how the Muggle flight system worked, Draco followed several people through a narrow passage, flashed his boarding pass and a cruel smirk at a woman behind a desk, then allowed himself to be herded onto the airplane. He found his seat and looked disappointedly about his surroundings. There was barely any leg room, the ceilings were low and dingy, and the window next to him was hardly large enough to peer through. "Ha. And I thought father said I'd be flying _first class,_" he muttered to himself, folding his arms across his chest. A very large, heavy-set man sidled into the aisle and forced his immense rear end into the seat beside Draco. "Loverly day to fly, innit?" the man said with Cockney words that made Draco cringe.

Draco slid in his seat so that he was as far away from the man as possible in such a small space. Taking the hint, the man shrugged his shoulders and pulled a set of headphones over his ears, then closed his eyes and settled back in his seat. After a few minutes, an announcement was made for all passengers to fasten their seatbelts, and Draco did so clumsily, watching the man beside him out of the corner of his eye.

The takeoff was most unpleasant, forcing Draco back into his seat and rattling him so badly that he gripped the arms of his seat until his knuckles were white. He began to yearn for the Floo trips that he normally despised.

To his great dismay, the flight did not get better after the takeoff. A woman in a crisp uniform trundled her way down the aisles with an overloaded trolley, offering food and drink to the passengers. Draco rudely refused, while the man beside him helped himself to more than two shares of packaged peanuts and a canned Bloody Mary. The little screen on the seat in front of Draco was showing some Muggle movie that Draco could not bring himself to enjoy, and every now and then the plane lurched in a bout of turbulence that sent him knocking into the curved wall none too gently.

After several grueling hours of boredom, Draco pulled a small sheet of parchment and a quill out of his knapsack and pulled down the tray in front of him. Part of the exchange assignment was to keep a daily journal of his experiences in the Muggle world. Draco figured the trip over was as much a part of the "experience" as anything, so he might as well scribble something now.

__

Day 1 - The Trip Overseas.

I honestly do not know how Muggles can stand to fly in these overgrown buses. The air is so stale I can barely stand to breathe it, the food looks utterly indigestible, and this terrible man beside me is taking up nearly half of MY seat. And to think I've still got hours left to fly. I think my plane is scheduled to land first in New York City, and from there I have to board yet another hellish flight to Florida. That is where I'm supposed to be living for the next few months. I don't know if I'll be able to stand the heat, let alone the filthy Muggles I am being forced to live with. This is going to be hell. Perhaps it IS hell. Perhaps I have died and gone straight to hell in an airplane…

Draco became aware of a pair of curious eyes on him, and turned to glare at the fat man. At Draco's withering expression, the man shot one last curious glance at the parchment and then turned hurriedly back to watching the in-flight film. With a quail of panic, Draco suddenly realized how strange he must look, writing with a fluffy quill on parchment among all these Muggles. He hurriedly tucked the paper and quill into his bag, and made a mental note to buy Muggle paper and writing utensils as soon as he arrived in Florida. He began to realize just how difficult it was going to be to hide the fact that he was a wizard _for five whole months._

~ o ~

Eighteen mind-numbing hours later, Draco stepped out of the airport into dazzling sunshine that hurt his tired eyes. He stood rather dumbly beside his trunk (which had taken him nearly two hours to locate - it seemed to have been caught up on some merry-go-round) and looked around for someone who might look like they were there to pick him up. The heat astounded him - after all, it was only February - and he began to wish he'd worn something other than the wool sweater that clung unpleasantly to his sweaty arms.

"Draco Malfoy?" The voice from behind him made Draco jump, and he spun around to find a man in shorts and an un-tucked polo shirt looking curiously at him. Draco nodded, not bothering to smile. The man was undaunted, however, and strode forward with a wide grin, his hand outstretched. "Hi! I'm John McGrady, your host father! Welcome to Florida!"

Draco did not take the man's hand, but just nodded again. After an awkward moment in which Draco scowled and John McGrady finally lowered his hand with a shrug, a red car pulled up beside them and a woman with short blonde hair waved from the driver's seat. "That's Mary with the car," Mr. McGrady explained. "She's my wife and your host mom. The kids are at home, but they're so excited to meet you."

Mr. McGrady helped Draco lift the heavy trunk into the car, and then Draco climbed into the backseat. He was surprised when Mr. McGrady got into the passenger seat and his wife remained behind the wheel. Lucius would never dream of letting Narcissa drive.

"Hi, Draco, I'm Mary," said Mrs. McGrady from the front of the car. She smiled brightly in the rearview mirror, and Draco gave her a curt nod. "How was your flight over?"

"Exhausting," Draco replied honestly. And so began a very long car ride, during which Draco's "host parents" talked nonstop about Florida and their family and their excitement about housing a foreign student, and Draco scarcely spoke two words. 

The McGradys made their home in a small East coast city called New Smyrna, and their house was located right on the beach. The little town looked horribly dingy and cluttered to Draco, and his frown deepened as Mr. McGrady cheerfully pointed out all of the "hot spots" around town that looked more to Draco like overgrown garbage dumpsters. Mrs. McGrady pulled the car into the narrow driveway of a modest two-story house with pink, stucco walls. "Here we are!" said Mr. McGrady, and he insisted that Draco let him deal with the trunk, while Mrs. McGrady showed Draco into the house.

As soon as Draco stepped out of the car, his nostrils were accosted by salt and sand, and his neatly combed hair began to whip wildly in the wind. He followed Mrs. McGrady into the house, and stopped in the entryway, frowning around at his surroundings. The house was very clean, but the décor was severely different than anything Draco had encountered at Malfoy Manor. 

The walls were painted in bright, tropical colors, and decorated with various paintings of sunsets and waves. Vases were set here and there, filled with orchids and hibiscuses of all sizes and colors, and the furniture seemed to be made of thick bamboo frames with white linen cushions piled onto it.

"This is it!" Mrs. McGrady said, in Draco's opinion much too proudly. "There's the living room, the kitchen's just through there, upstairs are the bedrooms, and if you head straight to the back, you'll find the patio. I'll show you up to your room in a minute, but first I want you to meet the kids." The cheerful lady went to the foot of the stairs and yelled out, making Draco flinch. You'd never catch Narcissa Malfoy caterwauling for Draco to come and meet company.

Suddenly came the _thump-thumpity-thud_ of running footsteps, and two identical little boys bounded down the wooden staircase, racing each other to the bottom. They skidded to a halt and peered curiously at Draco. Mrs. McGrady put her arms around the boys and beamed at Draco. "These are the twins, Roman and Jake," she said. "Boys, this is Draco Malfoy. He'll be living with us for a while, so I want you two to make him feel right at home."

The boys smiled and waved casually at their new guest. Draco bobbed his eyebrows in acknowledgement, his lips still turned downward in his most haughty frown. "Draco's a funny name," said one of the boys - Draco couldn't tell the difference between them.

"Jake! That was rude! Draco is from England, and I'm sure that his name is very common there, isn't it, Draco?" She smiled apologetically at Draco.

"I'm sure it is," Draco replied shortly. The woman was undaunted, however, and shooed the twins off to play. They scurried toward the patio, and Draco heard the doors slam as they went outside. 

"Rylie must be in her room," Mrs. McGrady said, gesturing for Draco to follow her up the stairs. "She's your age, and I'm sure you two will be great friends." They reached the top of the stairs and Draco heard loud, fast punk music issuing from behind a closed door at the end of the hall. Mrs. McGrady rapped on the door before opening it, and the music was turned off. 

Draco lingered in the hallway, and Mrs. McGrady emerged again with her daughter in tow. "Hey, I'm Rylie," the girl said, and waved a hand with raised thumb and pinky, a greeting which Draco would later learn is called a "shaka."

Rylie was a very pretty girl, with long brown hair, tanned skin, and dazzling blue eyes. Draco nodded in forced politeness, not being able to keep his eyes from wandering over her fit figure. She wore a white tank top and a pair of long, Hawaiian-print shorts that came to just below her knees. "How was your flight over?" Rylie asked, in an obvious attempt to break the strained silence that had come over the hallway.

"I detest flying by plane," Draco replied. Rylie nodded and smiled in a way that suggested her thoughts were along the lines of 'What other way would you fly?' and Mrs. McGrady tutted her agreement.

"You must be exhausted by the flight," she said, and strode forward to put a motherly arm around Draco's shoulders. "I'll show you your room now. I'm sure you'll want to take a nap before supper. You'll be staying right in here, just across the hall from Rylie's room."

As Mrs. McGrady led Draco into his room, Rylie gave another casual shaka and said she'd "catch" Draco later before going back into her room. Mr. McGrady finally made it up the stairs with Draco's heavy luggage and brought it into the guest room. Once Mrs. McGrady was satisfied that Draco was settled, she and her husband left him alone to rest, closing the door behind them.

Draco sank down onto the edge of the small twin bed and looked loathingly around the small guest room. It was decorated much like the rest of the house, with the lucky exception that the walls were painted a nice, normal shade of white. Standing, Draco went to the window and drew back the curtains. His room looked out over the beach, which was littered with sunbathers and surfers. The salt air inhabited the room despite the closed window, and Draco wrinkled his nose.

"I hate my life," he muttered, flopping down again onto the bed and closing his eyes. It didn't take long for him to drift off.


End file.
